


Storm's End

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s05e20 Red Velvet Cupakes, F/M, Patrick Jane's attic, Romance, Smut, relationship angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:36:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8163812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: Evening of 520 Red Velvet Cupcakes, a suggestive case. Jane and Lisbon resolve their differences and Lisbon finally gets an answer. Disclaimer: I don't own anything about The Mentalist.Originally posted on FFnet on May 8, 2013. Updated here with edits to improve readability.





	1. Chapter 1

Patrick Jane was perched on the desk he had pulled from under the window across the room. The closer perch was also high enough to keep him from having to strain his neck by staring up at his extensive array of Red John clues. Sounds in the hallway outside the door stilled him. Lisbon! Her light footsteps stopped outside the room. Her loud knock rattled the open padlock that hung in its hasp against Jane's side of the metal door. He sighed. The case that day had been long, stressful for the entire team, and kinky. He and Lisbon had been at each other mercilessly. The charged sexuality of the case had made a mess of the personal controls each member of the CBI team used without thinking to get through their professional day. Jane had retreated to the attic after fumbling particularly badly with Teresa Lisbon in the break room downstairs. A groan issued low in his throat, almost involuntarily. He went to the door. "What do you want, Lisbon?" As if he didn't know.

"I need to talk to you." Teresa Lisbon was furious. Nine years of Patrick Jane's slice and dice teasing was more than enough! Teasing was supposed to be a game, not bloody warfare. She'd had it. And here he was stalling her at the door!

Jane turned his head away and grimaced, then pulled the padlock and rolled the door open. He knew he had crossed a line downstairs. Again. Lisbon was going to make him pay this time. She was just too easy. And way too cute when his teasing got to her. She would look away, still as stone and just stop talking. Then, he got his way, whatever it was. Until that night on Orchid Lane. Entering the room, she had the same expression on her face now. He wasn't going to get away with anything. He crossed the room to look out the window to keep from looking at Lisbon who stood just inside the threshold.

Evening in the city formed a twinkling portrait through the large multi-paned window where Patrick Jane did so much staring and thinking. It was easy to look past the rooftop disorder in the foreground to the cityscape beyond. During the day, the light was wonderful in the attic room, even through the grimy-edged caulking that formed the window lattice. On fine days Patrick would open the door to the roof for some fresh air and another vista for thinking, especially when peering at his wall collection of Red John clues led nowhere.

"You pulled the desk away from the window."

"Saves craning my neck from across the room."

"Oh." Lisbon came toward him. "Did you hear me, Jane? I need to talk to you."

"Yes. Yes, I heard you, Lisbon." He spoke softly, then turned to face her. She had tracked him to the CBI building's attic, recognized as his territory. He even slept there sometimes, especially now that he was so close to winnowing his Red John suspect list to a small group of names. Time was very precious, but he kept being interrupted, hauled out on cases. It was ruining his ability to think and process. He needed complete quiet. And yes, he was angry about it. And yes, it showed, much as he tried to be a cheerful, sunny Patrick Jane. He just couldn't quite pull it off. "What is it?"

"What was that, down in the break room just now? What do you think you were doing?"

"Just talking, Lisbon. It seemed like you wanted to talk to me about the crazy sex-soaked case we solved today. Especially about the fetishism. I shouldn't have brought it up. I know you don't like to talk about sex. It just seemed like you did this time."

Teresa looked at him and then slanted her head away. He'd done it again. By spitting out the truth, he'd taken away the worst of her fire. She crossed her arms, shifted her feet further apart and lowered her chin a little as she mulled what to say next. "That's true enough. And I thought when you invited me to ask you about it, you were serious. I know you've been trying to be more of a real partner, a better partner . . . "

"And I have been, Lisbon. I've been trying, paying attention to that. You know I have!" He seemed genuinely injured that she might reproach him unfairly.

"Yes, Jane you have. And so I decided to trust you, see what you had to say. You know I don't like to talk about personal things at work. You knew that. And you laid a trap for me, let me walk into it and then laughed at me. How do you think that felt, Jane?" Lisbon's pony tail flopped with the stern, sharp movements of her head, accenting the anger and hurt.

"Not good, I take it." Jane's voice was low and husky.

"No. Why'd you do it? Why'd you set me up like that to embarrass me, Jane?"

"It wasn't like that, Lisbon. Or at least it didn't start out to be. I, I shouldn't have brought it up. It's just that . . . " Jane let his voice trail off. How could he tell her the truth? It had been building all day. Sex at every turn. He was only human! So many things had happened. So many things were said. If he talked about it, what would he end up confessing? Everything. He couldn't take a chance. Couldn't she see what had happened? She was a grown woman, with at least some sexual knowledge. Hell, she'd raised three younger brothers practically on her own. Her understanding of the male psyche should be better than most. But here she was, trying to force it out of him. "It's just that . . ."

Jane was well aware that his libido had been reawakened and given a memory just six months or so ago. Before that, it had been ten years. His body had long since given up hopes of being rewarded for sexual interest. And then Lorelei. No, Lisbon I did not love the woman. I pitied her. I felt for her loneliness and need, and my own. And I had decent sex with her. That makes a person feel at least a little warm towards another. I didn't do it because I liked her. I did it because I was alone, down and out, and she was there, offering. Now that his sexual drive was back in operation, his attraction to Teresa Lisbon was not always easy to manage. It sought expression. Patrick Jane could not allow that. And Lisbon knew why.

"Jane." Lisbon's voice had softened, her beautiful green eyes, too. He had started to speak twice and had gotten lost in his own thoughts. "Just what? The day started on such a nice note. I needed you. You said it felt nice to be needed. I felt forgiven for having to drag you out on a case when I knew you want to spend your time on Red John. Were you lying?" Her lovely eyes looked dewy in the reflected light as she nodded to him, encouraging him to speak.

Jane felt his will melting, slinking off to the corner like a cowering mutt. "No. No. Not at all. It did feel nice. Does feel nice. I meant it when I said anything for you, Lisbon." Jane tried to look in her eyes so that she could see his sincerity, but he couldn't quite face her that directly.

"It sure didn't feel like it a few minutes ago. Turtlenecks, Jane? Mashburn? That was almost three years ago."

Jane needed to stop his train of thought. He walked to the open door and looked out to the city skyline. "It was just something to say. For fun."

Lisbon shook her head. "Not buying it. That wasn't fun, Jane! Not for me. We need to talk about this. And I want you to tell me the truth."

Jane could feel his own anger building. It flashed in the noticeable bitterness in his voice. "What about you, Lisbon? Will you tell me the truth?"

Rolling back on her heels, Lisbon was a little taken back. She opened her arms, palms up. "Why would I lie? When have I been the one to lie to you?"

She actually believed herself! His mouth a grim line, Jane sounded almost strangled when he spoke again. "You lie to me all the time."

"No."

"Yes. About who you are. About how you feel. All the time." He looked at her now, let their eyes meet and held her gaze as he walked to the desk, then used it to support his hands as he leaned over it and lowered his head to confront her. "Until Orchid Lane. You couldn't hide it anymore. You showed me the truth."

Turning her head sharply away from Jane's somber gaze, Lisbon's cheeks reddened. He shouldn't have brought that up. Not fair.

"Yes, Lisbon. How far do you want to go with this?"

"Not there."

"No, not there." Jane didn't want to bring up Lorelei. But couldn't Lisbon see the parallels of her jealousy and pain about Lorelei to his own about her one-night stand with billionaire Walter Mashburn? Sure, Mashburn was a long time ago. But Jane was smitten with Lisbon, wanted her for himself even then, as illogical as that was. The heart wants what the heart wants.

Silence. Lisbon weighed what Jane had just said. Too big. Not time. She looked at Jane to find he was still looking at her. But there would come a time. She looked down a moment, then spoke softly. "Teasing is fine. I can take it. But what you did, that was just mean. Are you angry with me about something?"

"This isn't about anger, Lisbon. Not really. It's about sex, libido. Are you sure you want to talk about it?" Jane didn't believe she really did.

"Yes. I'm sure. If you're going to talk and not just set me up for more humiliation."

"Humiliation? Ah. Okay. You start then."

Jane had just issued a dare. Lisbon shrugged and let her next words spill out, ignoring the desperate alarms that flashed from her internal censor. "Fine. I think you are mad at me. For dismissing that we could be a couple. It seems like it all started there."

Unbelievable. Teresa Lisbon was talking to him about the most ignored, the most forbidden part of their relationship. Yet she didn't want to go to Orchid Lane. How could they avoid it now? Jane shook his head slowly. "No. It started when I teased you about being a Love Doctor fan."

Remembering that morning, Jane still had to smile. Teresa Lisbon listens to the Love Doctor? Patrick Jane's thoughts had raced to a delicious conclusion. Lisbon had not just a current but also an active interest in healthy romance! His heart had bubbled over with giddy possibilities, even knowing that he should not entertain them. Teasing her about it was impossible to forego! But she'd had her revenge. "We're not a couple. Please," with that incredulous, no chance in hell look on her face.

"Your revenge was the couple remark. That's okay. You give as good as you get, Lisbon." Jane was smiling now, but it didn't look like mirth. "You got me, Lisbon." Folding his arms protectively across his chest, Jane lowered his head and waited for her response.

Good grief! Was Jane playing the hurt card here? Lisbon made a soft sound of frustration as she felt its effect on her. She pushed her sympathy aside, but tried for a lighter approach. "That's when you babbled something about Platonic love, just to make fun and contradict me. Your favorite pastime."

Jane studied her carefully. A tiny smile played at Lisbon's lips and her left eye winked at him in that almost involuntary way she had. There was affection in that, barely expressed.

A recognition of her own triumph dawned in Teresa Lisbon's mind at that moment, and it sang to her. Patrick Jane's smart assery had backfired! He had teased her about the Love doctor and she had come back at him with the "couple" remark. She, Lisbon, had slapped him back, rattled his little cage and made him sing! Now that she thought of it, Patrick Jane essentially had declared his love for her! "Ours is more of a Platonic love." Ha! He was insisting that they had "our love."

Jane watched Lisbon's face transmit the process of her thinking. He hadn't meant to reveal so much with the Platonic love, remark. He decided on feint of hand. "True. I wanted to contradict you." A small, wry smile played on Patrick Jane's face, but he cast his glance away from Lisbon. If she only knew how much he'd wanted to contradict her, how her flippant remark had shocked and yes, even wounded him. She would not even consider him as a mate? Forget turtlenecks and Mashburn. Nothing could hurt like this, if it was her true opinion, her true feelings. It wasn't. It couldn't be.

Lisbon was talking again, moving on. But Jane was still thinking of his comeback to Lisbon's "not a couple" remark, "Ours is more of a Platonic love." Lie? Absolutely. But in it were also a clear declaration of his love for Teresa Lisbon and his expected return of her love. He hadn't meant to let that out. But now he was a little disappointed that Lisbon hadn't caught the meaning. Jane let go of his thoughts to concentrate on what Lisbon was saying.

"Saying I can take teasing doesn't mean I won't try to get you back. You know that. You know I was teasing you back. I wasn't really mad, just making the next move. You like a game."

"Meh. Don't worry about it. Tea, Lisbon? We're going to be thirsty before long."

"Yes, thanks."

As Jane passed, he extended his arm towards the makeshift bed, inviting Lisbon to take it. May as well get comfortable. This was going to be a long talk. The kind women like and men do their best to get through. Jane went to the corner where he had set the electric kettle and other tea paraphernalia when he had moved the desk.

Boosting herself onto the high platform, Lisbon kicked off her boots, plumped the pillows and lay back with her knees up, one crooked over the other, swinging her foot and wiggling her toes in her thin white anklets. She folded her hands on her stomach. The pad was surprisingly comfortable, a thin but supportive cushion probably from a camping store. For a bed made of a door lying on two sawhorses, this wasn't bad!


	2. Chapter 2

As he got the tea things together, Jane continued their conversation. "So." He cleared his throat. Best to get past the sex part. "Some case, yeh?"

Lisbon watched him from her comfortable perch. His hair was an uncombed wild mess of curls. Just how she liked it. His jacket was laid neatly over the back of his chair. His vest was open, his shirt half untucked, but not enough to hide his tight, round rear end. Wasn't often that she got to just stare at him this way.

"You're staring, Lisbon. What's so interesting?" He could see her reflection in the window.

Damn. "Nothing. You're just the only thing moving. Sorry if it bothers you."

"No. Just figured you had something to say about the case that you couldn't spit out." Or you were staring at my ass.

"Oh that. Well, it was a bit embarrassing. What people get into, huh?"

"It did ramp up the sexual energy all 'round." Jane brought the tea. "Here. Sit up and drink your tea, Lisbon." He handed the cup and saucer to her, then moved the desk close to the bed so she would have a place to set them.

Lisbon obeyed with a smile. "Mmmmmmm. Nice Jane. I could get used to this."

"Nothing like a cuppa in the evening." Jane smiled and winked at Lisbon over his cup. He brought the only chair, sidled it against the desk and sat, facing his partner.

Jane decided to take the plunge. "So. Bondage and foot fetish. Rigsby and Van Pelt letting it hang out over the radio. Van Pelt's breathy moans of "pain" when she "sprained" her ankle. I think libidos rose off the charts all round."

"What? No. We're professionals. All of us."

"Yes, we're professionals. But we're alive, flesh and blood. Murder and the heinous things we wade in every day affect us. Why wouldn't being knee deep in others' sex lives charge our libidos?"

"I wasn't charged, Jane."

"Ah." Back to lying. "Okay. If you say so."

"Were you charged?"

"Oh hell, yes. Made a mess of my whole day now I think of it."

Lisbon was very interested in this! "How? What do you mean?"

Barely looking up from his tea, Jane gave her a hard stare. "Don't toy with me, Lisbon."

"You called me a prude, Jane."

Oh. Lisbon was asserting her sexuality. What was she up to? "Yes, Ah. Sorry about that. We needed to keep listening to what was going on in the sting with Van Pelt and Rigsby with the Love Doctor. It was our professional duty, if you will. Anyway, you're too sensitive. You know you are a prude, Lisbon."

Lisbon's temper heated a couple notches. "Don't act like you know me, Jane. There's plenty you don't know. I work very hard to keep personal stuff out of the workplace, that's all. Seems even more important with a case like this. Besides, I didn't want to hear Van Pelt or Rigsby spill something that I'd have to take action on. Hightower already wrote me up on it. It's in my file now."

And . . . the diversion play. "Yeah, yeah. Okay, Lisbon. Okay. I'll just apologize and leave it there, okay? Anyway, you know Van Pelt and Rigsby are going at it like rabbits tonight, right?" After listening to Van Pelt's enticing moans when she "sprained" her ankle, Jane's newly alert libido had given even him a quick ripe fantasy of nailing her.

"What? No! You're crazy! Not after all they've been through!"

"Libido, Lisbon. And the heart wants what the heart wants. I'm sure they'll be much more discreet about it this time."

"I hope you're wrong. Not about the discreet part!" Lisbon let the matter drop. Either Rigsby and Van Pelt would be discreet and save their positions on the team or they wouldn't. Lisbon moved the conversation forward. This was really good, she and Jane talking about things. But she had to know, "You bought Van Pelt sexy shoes."

Setting his cup in the saucer with a quiet clatter, Jane looked Lisbon in the eyes. "They were for the sting, Lisbon." The prolonged elevation of his libido today was starting to make him a bit irritable. His hold on those sexual impulses was eroding by the minute.

Lisbon seemed to be getting pouty herself. "When I said where's mine, you blew me off and said I wouldn't like them. They were beautiful shoes, Jane. Of course I liked them! It was like you said I was sexless or something. Like saying I'm a prude. That hurts, Jane. You don't know me." It was true that her minor myriad of sexual encounters couldn't be considered promiscuous, but she had plenty of sexual experience and enjoyed every minute of it. It was wonderful to completely let go with a compatible partner. And there was no doubt her partners enjoyed her, too!

Lisbon had said 'you don't know me' twice now, with emphasis. Was this an invitation to know her better, and in the biblical sense? Much as Patrick Jane wanted to show Lisbon just how sexy he thought she was, it felt too risky even to deny that he thought her sexless. Where would that lead? She would try to toy with him again. Such verbal sex play would team with his general arousal to break any remaining caution and resolve. Jane took another sip of his tea.

How Patrick Jane wanted to explore Teresa Lisbon! His body prodded him with its recent memory of sex. It was driving him to seek more, and with the one woman that he loved, now lying down again in what served as his bed, wiggling her cotton-clad toes. Jane would make love to his Lisbon in a minute, if he didn't think it would put her in Red John's crosshairs.

Lisbon was right. Her "not a couple" remark had nagged him all day. He hadn't meant to attack her as sexless. But Jane knew that confessing now would bring them, bring him, into territory just too dangerous to breach tonight. It was enough to know that Lisbon very much wanted him to think of her as a sexual being! No problem there.

"Jane?"

He stirred and re-focused his attention on Lisbon. "Hmmmm?"

"You look so miserable. Do you want me to go?"

Not ever. "Have you finished with me?"

"You were going to help me understand about a foot fetish."

Jane almost stopped breathing. Oh, wouldn't he love to have that conversation, offer to show Teresa Lisbon the pleasure he could create by attending to her lovely feet, leading to a passionate coupling neither would ever forget. Their first time would be breathtaking! Regret filled his heart as he shunned these thoughts to show her that he recognized her wile. "Turn about's fair play, hey, Lisbon?"

"What do you mean?" Lisbon was pouting!

"I apologize for trying to engage you in sex talk downstairs."

"But, I wanted to find out more. You said you understood it."

"No. Well, yes. Your libido was charged. Mine was off the meter. I got weak. You're a single woman. I started sex talk with you. You raised your brothers. You know what we're like." Jane felt like he was rambling helplessly. He paused to finish his tea. "The most common male gambit is to bring up the topic as conversation with the lady you're considering, see how she reacts."

"A woman's gambit, too." Lisbon's green eyes flashed with a delight she couldn't hide. He had been trying to sex her up! She would love to bed Jane, who better than someone who knew her so well. Even if not completely. They could fix that. Someday. It saddened Lisbon to contemplate the indefinite wait on Red John's demise. Lisbon couldn't allow herself to feel even a tiny stream from the river of passion and love that she felt for Patrick. But that river was steaming, and It would drive her to abandon all control if she wasn't more careful.

Jane picked up his cup and saucer, stood and held his hand out to collect Lisbon's. She handed them over and jumped off the bed when he turned to put them with his own. She put her boots back on while he returned the tea things to his corner stash.


	3. Chapter 3

Jane was summing up as they walked to the sliding metal door that led out of the attic room. "Okay. So, you know what I'm talking about. We need to be careful here. What we do together is not sex play, Lisbon. Not to me." He held out his arm, guiding her to the door without touching her, as was his habit.

"What happened to charged libidos and a single woman?" She honestly should not have said that. Apparently her own libido was as tricky as Jane's.

Jane stopped short. She was toying with him again. Jane's irritation spiked to anger. Did Lisbon have no idea the state of arousal he had reached? He realized, of course she did! His anger now joined his lust, smoldering together. Lisbon stopped short and, stepping aside so that Jane could open the door, her body brushed against his. The slide of her luscious backside in his excited state lit a spark that flamed red and would not burn out. He felt awash in a private brush fire!

What she had felt against her hindquarters, Lisbon wanted more of. Now! She stood still as whispers, flooded with emotion and desire. Lisbon turned her head to look at Jane over her shoulder. Her cheeks were bright red with the same spark that had lit him, with an added vein of guilt and embarrassment. Lisbon saw at once things had gone too far. Worse, she didn't want to stop them. She tried to apologize, "I, I didn't mean . . . " But Jane cut her short.

Turning Lisbon roughly to face him, he pushed her tightly against the door. "No. It's exactly what you mean. It's what you came up here for! I warned you not to toy with me. I told you the state I'm in. And you came at me again!" Jane pinned her shoulders back and pressed his entire body against hers, the curls of his hair bouncing with the force he exerted. "What have you done, Teresa? Is this what you want?" He pressed his pelvis into her stomach so that every question she might have about his attraction to her could be answered at once.

Teresa brought her face forward for a kiss and attempted to put her arms around Patrick, but he caught them and forced them up, pinning her wrists over her head. He was not hurting her at all, but determined to make her face him and admit her own desire. She felt aflame and more than a little faint from her own passion and from the sudden turn of events. He was pressing too high against her and she wanted to lift her legs and crawl up his hips to place him where she longed for him. Instead, she whispered, "I'm sorry." She was gasping for air. "I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry."

Pushing herself closer to Patrick, Teresa admitted, "I'm not sorry."

Still pinning her wrists, Patrick bent to press his lips just below her neck where a strong sexual flush was already painting Teresa's chest. As he tasted her for the first time, blotting her chest with his warm, probing tongue, Teresa began to struggle and moan and Patrick released her arms, still pressing her tightly against the door. She wrapped her arms lightly across his back, and bent her head to kiss what she could reach of him, over his temples, the ridge over his eyes. Patrick knew she was desperate for him to kiss her lips, plunder her mouth. He loved this woman, desired her beyond his own comprehension, but he would not satisfy her yet.

Teresa pushed Patrick back long enough to grab the hem of her pullover shirt and snake it over her head to throw it on the floor. She looked at him defiantly. He nipped her shoulder. Teresa cried out softly in surprise, then growled and began to push against Patrick, struggling for the freedom to express her passion for him, unrestrained. But Patrick would not release her.

"Stop struggling!" he commanded. Teresa quieted and looked at him. She thought she could see pain mixed with the lust, anger, too. But mostly she saw a passionate love that longed for expression.

"Please. Kiss me, Patrick."

"Not yet. Do you really want this to happen here? This way?"

"I do, now. Yes. It's you. It's your place. I want . . . you." Teresa was squirming furiously again, although she was not trying to free herself from Patrick's hold. Yes, she wanted it here, and now. As long as there would be more. Tomorrow. And the next day. And every day. Teresa felt she would start screaming if he didn't take her. Now!

The sentiment in her words overpowered his senses, made his head swim, the love in his heart flooding every cell of his body. Patrick studied her movements, so desperate. He almost took pity on her when he realized she was attempting to force her breasts free of her low-cut bra, fastened rather flimsily in front by a small plastic clasp. He watched fascinated as a strap slid off her shoulder and a rosy bud appeared over one cup. He snatched it with hungry lips, teasing the nipple mercilessly and then taking as much of the breast into his mouth as he could manage, sucking and mouthing, intending her to suffer the tease of delaying any completion.

Teresa cried out. She put her hands on his shoulders, used all her strength to push herself up, and then wrapped her legs around his hips. Her plump breast popped free from Patrick's mouth and bounced, exposed, as she tried to position her body as she wished. Dropping her own hips slightly, she wedged Patrick far enough away to press her clothed vulva against the rigid proof of arousal that she could feel underneath his trousers.

"Ooohhhh," she crooned as she rocked her hips against him, feeling crazed by her own desire, brought to a peak by his restraint of her movement.

Patrick reached around Teresa to support her back and draw her close to him. Beautiful, beautiful woman! He hugged her blissfully and cherished this raw moment. He'd never seen a woman so in possession of her full natural sexual power. It was true. He hadn't known her. Then he chuckled. "I'm not an acrobat, Teresa. I can't balance you against this door and fuck you properly the way you show me you want it, fully clothed and standing up with both your legs wrapped around my waist."

Teresa bit him quickly, but hard, on the meat of his shoulder close to his neck. Patrick roared in pain. She really could give as good as she got!

Dropping all pretence of control, Patrick's lust focused on its end goal like a collapsing star, imploding into one single point of reference. Pivoting with her, he took three steps and pushed Teresa off him and onto the desk where they'd just had tea. He pushed his trousers and briefs to the ground together almost as quickly as she popped the clasp of her bra and removed it. She had a hand on her trouser button but he flipped it away to undo them himself, then reached behind her to pull the waistband down. Teresa raised up barely in time for Patrick to yank her trousers and panties to her knees. Then she leaned back, fully exposed to him, but with her boots blocking the full removal of her clothing. Patrick pulled off the boots easily and let her trousers drop to the floor. Her panties he removed more carefully, then held them up and buried his face in them! Teresa stared at him, fascinated. Patrick's fully aroused naked form was before her, quivering and tense as a bowstring. Teresa's entire body seemed to flare like a match, watching him take in her scent!

Patrick Jane was memorizing her scent. Now he had it, his Teresa. He let his hands drop to look at her, gripping her panties in one hand. She was studying him, her legs relaxed and slightly apart, leaning back on her hands. She was still in the simple white stockings she wore to cushion her small feet in her boots. Teresa was flushed all over, her breathing was heavy and her eyes were deep emerald pools, almost unfathomable except that they were looking right into his. He would not make her beg for what she wanted now. He let the panties drop.

Patrick took the step towards her that would bring them irrevocably together. Teresa gasped as Patrick laid his hands on her knees. She opened her legs a bit more. He groaned from deep in his chest, but reached with only one hand, a finger extended. Patrick trailed that finger into her cleft and slid it forward, flicking her clit lightly at the finish. Her hips bucked and she threw her head back, exposing her throat and the creamy fruit of her breasts to him. But he paused, denying her to himself just this moment more, breathing heavily, and waited for her attention. When she looked at him, her green eyes alight, he brought his finger to his nose, gently sniffed the musk there as she watched and then licked his finger as if cleaning it of honey from breakfast. "Teresa!" he moaned, unshed tears glistening in eyes the color of a stormy sea.

Patrick held her lightly at the waist and gently slid her just over the edge of the desk as she opened her legs to him. "No splinters?" he asked. When she shook her head, he gripped Teresa's hips tightly and used his own as a wedge to push first one leg and then the other wide apart, as he entered her fully in one stroke, pressing his pubis roughly against hers to unmistakably introduce himself and take control.

"Aaahhh," she moaned loudly, "Patrick! Hold me!"

When he leaned down to Teresa, she held him, her small hands tight to his back to keep him close, her legs wrapped lightly around his waist. Her breasts now within easy reach, Patrick kissed and mouthed and nipped them each in turn. Teresa raised her hips to meet Patrick's heavy strokes to take him into her completely. Her body began to feel hypnotized, confused as to which sensation was which, as sexual incitement spiraled from her pelvis and burst into little spikes of shock at her nipples to encompass every part of her with it's rising vibration.

Patrick leaned back and, cupping a hand under each globe of her bottom, pulled her to him and began to pump long deep strokes, pushing in further with every thrust. He could already feel his orgasm mounting, and Teresa was not far behind. He unwrapped her legs from his waist and helped her hook her knees over his arms as he began to pound into her, cradling her hips and calling her name.

With a small cry, Teresa arched her back, her body still and straining, her face a picture of ecstasy. He felt her core tighten around him like a satin fist and then begin to throb around his whole length as the release in her voice broke high and rhythmic. It was as if her whole being called him over a cliff and he followed willingly, driving into her as he erupted, his own rhythmic cries a counterpoint to hers. It was then that Patrick kissed Teresa, groaning into her mouth as she moaned into his. Long after they were both spent, they savored the kisses that had been delayed until the end.


	4. Chapter 4

Teresa lay on her side, still on the desk, her legs curled, propped up on her elbow and looking at Patrick seated in the chair in front of her, clad only in his thin briefs. It looked a little damp over his manly bits, like they were perhaps still shedding heat.

"You're staring at me again. You're a very lascivious person, Lisbon."

"And that's a bad thing in a sexual relationship?"

Patrick looked up to see her smirking at him. "Is that what we have?"

"Unless you plan to love me and leave me, Patrick."

"No. I plan to love you always. And you know that." He looked at her meaningfully, letting her know he needed to hear it.

"I do know that. I hope you know that about me, too."

"Yes. But say it, Teresa."

"I will always love you, Patrick. Nothing could stop me." The smile he gave her felt like sun.

"Patrick?"

He tilted his chin up at her and said, "Mmmph?" He was memorizing her breasts, round and full and low like apples on a tree. Her left breast had a second degree stubble burn from all the attention it had received.

"I think we're way past Orchid Lane now."

Patrick started to smile but didn't like all the thoughts that came into his mind with the reference. Thoughts of the future and dangers that still lurked. "Oh yeah, we're out in the boonies now." He was memorizing the line of her hip now, temptingly flared, babies would do nicely in there. The plump mound of her sex, luscious really. "Venus Mons," Patrick said absently.

Teresa looked down at herself. "You like it?"

The look Patrick gave her made her blush. "Oh yeah, it's nice in there all right." He smiled at the renewed stirrings he felt below and at the pink flush that was already starting on Teresa's chest. She was certainly sensitive. He loved that he didn't even have to touch her to set her off.

"You sure are giving me the once-over there, Patrick."

Her arms were straight and firm, even muscular in a sleek, cat-like way. "I'm memorizing you. I'm imprinted now, imprinted on you, Teresa. It feels very good."

Teresa was flattered. She'd be in his memory palace as naked as she was now. "Imprinted. That feels like a wonderful dream that I didn't remember, Patrick. I love that. Thank you."

"Oh, I can't help it. I'm in love with you. My heart, my thoughts, my lust are all imprinted on you, Teresa. When I think of love or when I feel love, it will be about you."

"Honestly, that's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. I wish I could think of words to say like that so you would know what's in my heart."

"Oh, I know. You're imprinted on me, too." He saw that her knees had cute little dimples.

"Yes, Patrick. I am." This was the best love talk ever! Teresa felt totally adored and attended to.

He glanced at her feet. "Teresa?"

"Yeah?"

"You still have your socks on."

"I know. They weren't in the way." Teresa cocked her head at Patrick, an amused, sly smile on her face. "You need to memorize my feet, too?"

"Everything. I haven't even got to the back yet. Or the interiors." He waggled an eyebrow at her.

"I would think you might know that by feel," Teresa said, teasing him.

Patrick smiled back at her, his cheeks a lovely shade of shell pink.

Teresa could totally be with this Patrick. Every minute of the day.

"You have petite feet." Patrick looked at them and let his tongue grab his lower lip, sucking at it a little as his tongue retreated into his mouth.

Teresa felt a rush of warmth throughout her body, an actual thrill. "Patrick? Are you trying to get into my socks?"

He looked up from her feet with a sly smile. "I'd really like to be the one to show you something new, Teresa."

"You want to pop my cherry on feet, don't you?" Teresa laughed out loud in delight. "Don't you?"

"Yes, I certainly do." He snickered softly. "There's a bowl over there. And lots of fresh clean water in the kettle. It's cooled off by now, but not cold."

Teresa wasn't following. "And . . . ?"

"I'm going to wash your feet first. It'll be very nice."

"Okay then. I'm getting a little excited, Patrick, but I'm not sure why. So if I start giggling, it's probably nerves."

Patrick nodded. "Okay. Forewarned." When he stood, Teresa could see he was already very aroused.

He smiled the toothiest smile Teresa had ever seen on him and headed to the corner to get what he needed. Teresa sat up. This was her man. They were imprinted. Her heart soared with happiness. Patrick could try anything he wanted to on her. "Do we need a safe word?" she teased.

"'No,' will do. Stay there. I'll come to you." Patrick brought a large bowl about half-filled with clear water, a hand towel and a face cloth. "I saved half for your feet."

Teresa giggled. "You're going to wash something else first?"

"Oh, yes. Venus Mons."

"What? Why?"

"Last answer. Because I assure you, Lisbon, I'm going to want to kiss you there." She looked quizzical. He winked at her. "And I don't want to taste so much of me."

Patrick set his things on the desk and stepped between her legs to kiss her nerves away. It worked. Soon Teresa was panting. Patrick picked her up, set the towel underneath and returned her to the desk. Teresa had wrapped her legs around his waist and Patrick gently untangled himself. "Lean back a little and spread your legs for me, Teresa."

Teresa giggled.

But being washed was actually very pleasant. Patrick made it very easy. He was attentive and gentle. And he kissed her and fondled her breasts a lot to distract her and maintain her interest at the same time. When he was finished, Patrick used the towel to carefully blot her dry.

"Let's get you in bed, now." He picked her up and set her in the high bed bringing the pillows a little lower so that when she laid down her feet hung over the end.

The foot washing was also very nice. It tickled when he washed between her toes but when she tried to pull away from the stimulation, Patrick held the foot and bent her knees to kiss her vulva until she moaned, all the while massaging away the tickle in her foot. Soon her toes were no longer ticklish, nor were the bottoms of her feet. Instead, by the time he was massaging, kissing, licking and nipping them, she was begging him in the most crass terms to climb on top of her and make love to her. Patrick laughed. "Soon." Sometimes he would use his fingers to please her while he kissed her feet.

Something began to coil in her groin and abdomen and Teresa felt very restless. Patrick continued to kiss the spot on her foot that seemed to be causing it, gently stroking her feminine flesh, encouraging her and comforting her, calling her sweetheart and telling her it would be okay. The next moment Teresa called out his name, and began the rhythmic keening and spasm of a powerful orgasm. Teresa thought she would fly apart and by the time she called out "Patrick!" again, he was at her side taking her into his arms to comfort her through the passionate storm that had taken hold of her. She jumped into his arms like a child and he carried her over to the chair to sit down with her in his lap, kissing and rocking and crooning to his Teresa, petting her a little more to soothe the fringes of her climax. Soon she was calm.

Dawn had come and was turning into morning. Patrick thought she looked so beautiful in its light. He brushed her hair from her face. The pony tail had long been undone.

When Teresa looked at Patrick again, she saw the morning light through the window and how it touched the tempest of curls that she realized delightedly was Patrick's morning hair. She smiled at him and he kissed her.

"It's morning," she said. "I have to go to work. My change of clothes is downstairs in my desk drawer, Patrick. I can't go down there in the same clothes I wore yesterday. It's too suspicious."

"How well I know." Patrick rolled his eyes, and Teresa knew he was thinking of Walter Mashburn and the fact that Patrick figured out she had been with Walter because she came to work with the same clothes the next day.

Teresa gave him a playful backhanded slap.

Patrick picked up his trousers. "Let me get dressed and I'll go down and get them for you. No one will think anything if I come down in the same clothes."

They both knew it was true.

"Thanks, sweetie." Sweetie. Patrick liked that.

The deed was accomplished without incident.

When they stood outside his locked attic door, Teresa smiled happily at Patrick. "When are you going to do that to my feet again?"

Patrick hugged her close to his side, and whispered into her ear, "When you've done it for me." He kissed the side of her head, then said in a more normal voice, "I assure you I won't be as much work." He made a silly face and wagged his head back and forth.

"Oh. You're a comedian, now." Teresa shined the toothiest smile Patrick had ever seen from her. Then she said, "Deal!" And walked down the stairs apart from him.

Patrick waited quite awhile and then went down the stairs himself, for now a very happy man indeed.


End file.
